365 Friendship Quotes
by 0idontknow0
Summary: My friend got me this thing with all the days of the year. It's not a calendar though. It has these friendship quotes for each day and I like some of them so I'm going to try writing a fic or drabble for those. Ratings will range from K to M for a variety of reasons. I'll put up ratings for each story though, no worries.
1. Sept 01

**Title: **Found In Exile

**Characters: **Harry, Draco

**Rating: **NC-17 for an f-bomb.

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Harry comes across Malfoy one day in Italy.

**Day:** Sept 01

**A/N:** My friend got me this thing with all the days of the year. It's not a calendar though. It has these friendship quotes for each day and I like some of them so I'm going to try writing a fic or drabble for those. I don't know _how_ I'm going to keep up with them though. I'm crazy or something. This will probably take me more than a year.

* * *

"_Only solitary people know the full joys of friendship._

_Others have their family;_

_But to a solitary and an exile friends are everything."_

_-Willa Cather (1873-1947)_

* * *

Harry walked through the streets aimlessly as he observed the night lights. He listened vaguely to the chatter and the laughter around him. It had been nearly a year since Ron and Hermione had passed and he did not want to be in London when the day arrived so he had booked a flight to Italy. Registering for a portkey would have made too many people aware of his whereabouts and he wanted the privacy and time to himself.

He had never known quite what to do when they had died. It was amazing that he was so lost. He thought that after the war he would have toughened up a bit; learned to accept death as part of life. In reality it had made him hold those dear to him all the closer. He had only accepted his _own_ death. He had done so the moment he convinced himself to go to the Forbidden Forest that night. To think that after surviving something like that he would lose the two most important people to him in a random attack. Some bloke had been so angry at the world that he had lashed out in Diagon Alley and thrown Killing Curses every which way, including at himself. Harry had been one of the "lucky" ones.

He was not sure how long he had walked for, or where he had walked to, but it was dark and the roads were nearly empty. He checked his watch, 3:31 a.m.

_September first_, he thought.

He came upon a bridge and ran his eyes along the water bellow, the lights reflecting on its surface like deformed flames. Harry saw a figure sitting on the ledge staring out at the sky. Near white hair glowed under the streetlights and the collar of their coat was pulled up to their ears. He got a sense of melancholy from the figure, much like his own, and swiftly tore his gaze away and kept walking. He did not need to fall further, he was already so low.

He had almost come off the bridge when recognition struck him so hard that he gasped. He turned around and watched the figure, the man. He recognized those shoulders, that hair and those sharp angles of the man's face. The man turned his head slowly, curious at first until Harry's identity finally dawned on him. It was Malfoy.

Unexpectedly, the man laughed. It was bitter and it was painful and Harry could not watch the display. Malfoy got up and walked towards him. Harry turned away.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

He kept walking.

"Nothing to say to me?" the man hollered.

He closed his eyes.

"I heard about your friends. "

He froze.

"It's not exactly lovely, is it? Being alone."

"What do you know, Malfoy?" he spat, as he whirled around and stormed at the man. He grabbed him by the collar and shook him hard. "What the fuck do you know about being alone?"

There it was again, that bitter laugh. "I'm in _exile_, Potter. I know everything about it," Malfoy laughed. "You think witches and wizards want anything to do with me? And I'm wandless thanks to you so I can't do much for employment. And legally I can't go anywhere _near_ Muggles."

Harry loosened his grip when he got a look at Malfoy's eyes. They were as grey as ever, but they were dull, tired. There was no flicker of life when he laughed. It was empty. _Malfoy_ was empty. Harry shoved him back so he could get away from those eyes, Malfoy tumbled to the ground. He hoped he did not look quite to dead himself.

"What of your parents? Your friends?" he asked.

"You have got quite some jokes, Potter," Malfoy chuckled, as he rolled onto his back. Harry could see how worn his clothes were and wondered if Malfoy had been outside because he wanted to be or because he had no other choice. "Father's been dead for years and mother has run off somewhere ever since. Merlin knows where she went. And I've long since lost contact with my friends. The Ministry gives them too much of a hassle for it to be worth it."

Harry watched the man for long moments wondering what he should do, what he should say. "Malfoy, you in the mood for a drink? I reckon you know a cheap bar around here."

"Offering me a pity drink?"

"That and I need to get shitfaced."

"From one drink?" Malfoy teased, still on the ground. "Poor."

"From _a number_ of drinks," he retorted, as he held out his hand. He was not sure what prompted the kindness. Maybe it was the fact that they were both alone in the world, Malfoy more so than himself. "Well?"

"You're paying," the man said, as he took Harry's hand and pulled himself up.

"I reckon I am since you're poor and likely to be homeless as well."

"Oh, how times have changed. Do I need to act civil towards you to claim these drinks?"

"I should think so."

Malfoy laughed again and Harry felt he imagined a flicker of life in those grey eyes. "I never thought Harry Potter would be the closest thing I had to a friend."

"I wouldn't call us friends quite yet."

"It goes to show how deprived I am. How about those drinks then?"


	2. Sept 02

**Title: **Friendship Politics

**Characters: **Severus, Lucius

**Rating: **G

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Severus and Lucius grow tired of their games.

**Day:** Sept 02

* * *

"_Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow._

_Don't walk beside me; I may not lead._

_Walk beside me, and just be my friend."_

_-Albert Camus (1913-1960)_

* * *

Lucius sighed inwardly as Severus gained leverage on him once more. This was how he lived, a constant battle for a top rank in life's delicate hierarchy. He always had those he needed to trump, those he needed to manipulate and those he would not dare touch directly for risk of ruining his hard work. But just once he would like to have someone, who was not his wife, who he could associate with without worry for such things, where politics and a status quo were not need. Now he would have to follow Severus' lead and behave with the nuances they both knew to indicate who the dominant party was.

Eventually he would be the one holding the cards and leading the way. It always happened. They flowed back and forth with a continuous shift in power. It was the first time Lucius had encountered someone so on par with him and he loved it. He only wished that they drop the contest and settle into something more than silent competitors with a cordial front. They could be... friends, he supposed, though he was not quite sure of the exact structures of such a relationship. He had never needed to know.

He locked eyes with Severus and his finger twitched as he noted the similarity of their expressions. Perhaps his old colleague was feeling very much the same. It was simply a matter of them finding some way to broach the topic carefully. They were in new waters. Seven years in Slytherin house does not prepare one for friendship, it prepares them for a lifetime of cleverness and hidden agendas. This was not something they could plot. They needed to tread lightly.

"I do think that I'm quite tired of this game, do you not, Lucius?" Severus drawled, in his usual tone. His eyes were full of caution though.

Lucius inclined his head before he spoke, "I quite agree, Severus. Though, I had not expected you to be so... forward."

Severus gave an almost imperceptible smile and said, "At times it pays to be blunt. Subtlety is not always the most appropriate method."

And Lucius knew that Severus had not intended for that bit of advice to be a sign of his intellect or wisdom, but something he had shared with an old colleague. One he did not need to compete with because they need not hold anything over the other. He watched, stunned, at the amount of tension they both seemed to release now that the games were over.


	3. Sept 03

**Title: **Open Ears

**Characters: **Harry, Hermione

**Rating: **G

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Hermione complains, a lot.

**Day:** Sept 03

* * *

"_True blue friends... make you feel good and warm; they are automatically_

_On the same wavelength; you can speak freely to them,_

_You don't have to be on guard; they really listen;_

_They care about what you're doing..."_

_-Adelaide Bry_

* * *

"... so you'd think that it would be _easy_ for me to- Are you even _listening_ to me anymore, Harry?" Hermione asked. She had gone to him seeking out advice. She would have approached Ron, but he had been particularly busy as of late and she had not wanted to bother him and Ginny was out of the country in a completely different time zone so-

"I heard you 'Mione. I heard it all. I just started to pay a little less attention when you_ strayed _from the main point," Harry said. She took in a breath to point out that all her statements had been valid but he sharply pointed a finger at her. "Ah, ah, ah. _No_, not all you points are valid. Or whatever you were going to say. You started complaining about how ridiculous it is that you can't bake despite being good at potions. Yes, they both had recipes but they're completely different. _I_ can bake. I'm bollocks at potions though."

"All right, fine but what about my original dilemma," she asked.

"I think you should go. It's a brilliant opportunity and it'll more than help your career. Besides, I'm sure Ron and I can survive a year without you. We aren't completely incompetent. He's actually pretty excited for you. He'll miss you, yeah, but that's a given," he said with a shrug. Leave it to Harry to be blaze about something she made a fuss over.

"I can't believe you actually listened to all that," she laughed, as she shook her head.

"Neither do I. You can go on for hours if I let you."

"I do no such thing," she argued.

Harry sat upright with his brows raised in challenge. "You reckon? I seem to recall an incident where you were cooking and you had gotten so distracted with some debate ov-"

"All right, All right! The _one_ time," she conceded, her hands raised in surrender. "You won't let that _go_."

"I was _hungry_, 'Mione, and you burned the fo-"

"Harry, stop. Shhhh. We are never to mention it _again_."


	4. Sept 04

**Title: **Friendship Lacking in Facade

**Characters: **Draco, Blaise

**Rating: **PG13

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Wingmen sort of.

**Day:** Sept 04

**A/N:** Why do the days keep progressing!

* * *

"_For the loftiest friendships have no commercial element in them;_

_To the contrary, they are founded on sacrifice._

_They neither expect nor desire gift for gift or service for service."_

_-Sarah B. Cooper_

* * *

"Beautiful," Blaise murmured.

"Radiant," Draco added.

"Exquisite."

"Stunning."

"Look away," Blaise whispered as the prospect began to turn around. Draco turned so that she was looking mostly at his back but could still catch a look at his face.

"Status?"

"Pleasantly intrigued," Blaise murmured, as he glanced away and sipped his wine.

"Well enough," Draco said. He caught sight of a bloke that looked to be Blaise's cup of tea. "Half a turn. Coffee, three creams. Fit. Fine. Masculine."

"Do continue," Blaise said, his interest peaked. "Ah, casually having a look."

"Unaccompanied."

"Most definitely pleased."

"Sharing inclinations."

"Promising."

"Potential," Draco murmured, sipping his wine.

"Looking to make a move. Anticipate," Blaise said, turning himself so that he could catch a glance at the bloke Draco had been describing.

"Lonely, let it simmer," Draco said, smiling as he gazed casually around the room, sweeping past his target before doubling back and locking eyes with her. He inclined his head and gave her a smile.

"Right on," Blaise murmured. "You really know my tastes."

"Likewise. I'll take my leave now."

"Good luck."

"Don't lose your window," he warned, as he started towards Astoria Greengrass.

"I won't."

Draco was not sure how he and Blaise had gotten to know one another's inclinations so thoroughly but it helped that they did. Without a word they could tell if the other would approve or disapprove of something, or someone, and they were more than willing to oblige one another. Surprisingly enough though they did not keep track of the favours, rather unlike when they dealt with Pansy and Theo. To each other they were a different breed of friend, a more relaxed one that did not give shit about judgement because they had never really cared what the other thought to begin with. It was refreshing, and more than beneficial.


	5. Sept 05

**Title: **Bringing You Back

**Characters: **Pansy, Blaise

**Rating: M **for an f-bomb

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Blaise convinces Pansy to come back to Hogsmeade.

**Day:** Sept 05

* * *

She needed to leave. Tonight she had publicly opted to have Potter handed over to the Dark Lord and then the old snake face had lost. Sure she did not like mudbloods and halflings but that did not mean she wanted them all rid of or tortured. But she also did not want to _die_ or become _enslaved_ was not how everyone else was going to view it though, as her simply wanting to survive. Pansy was a Slytherin, she wanted to do what she could to survive, everyone was supposed to know that already. Plus, the Dark Lord was a Slytherin and she knew how harsh their punishments could be, how sadistic their minds were, hell she had done a few dreadful things herself. She did _not_ want to become subject to such demented mentalities, especially by means of the Cruciatus curse.

But of course Potter, being the lucky Gryffindor he was, had managed to survive the Killing Curse y_et again_. He was a bloody miracle. It was no doubt that too many people would remember what she had said. She would become a social pariah. If worse came to worse the Ministry would even find something to charge her with. Their reputation was ruined and they were in shambles so they needed to save face somehow and backing Potter was the best way to do it, even if it was too late.

She slipped out the back of the Leaky, Hogs Head was at capacity, and started when she saw Theo leaning against the wall. He glanced at her and sneered before turning away. She winced and looked away from him. She knew the bonds formed in her house were weak but she had not expected them to be quite so brittle. Pansy thought they would have at least waited to see how society reacted to her. Then again, _she_ had not even waited for that.

"Theo," she tried, despite what she already knew.

"You should have kept your mouth shut, Parkinson," he spat, before heading inside.

She swallowed the emotions she felt building up inside of her and sighed. She straightened her clothes and fixed her hair as she steeled herself. She took a deep breath and started into Muggle London.

"Pansy," she heard Blaise call.

She turned slowly on her heel and held her head high. "Blaise," she said, guarded.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, as he leaned casually on the wall.

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?" she asked.

"Come back inside," he said calmly. She could never understand how the boy was always so bloody _calm_ all the while.

"They'll eat me alive for what I've said," she replied, as she looked past him.

"You said what half the school was thinking," he drawled.

"I can't go back," she insisted, stepping backwards.

"You've done nothing to warrant any serious punishment," he pressed, as he eased himself off the wall.

"You don't _understand_."

"You don't have a Dark Mark."

"W-What?" she gasped, stopping.

"You. Don't. Have. A. Dark. Mark," he enunciated, as he strode towards her.

"They'll rip me apart," she whispered.

"No they won't," he reassured, as he stopped in front of her. He touched her elbow and she let out a breath she had not realized she had started holding. She said nothing for some time and kept her eyes away from his face and his bloody reassuring expression. He squeezed her elbow gently, it was barely even noticeable.

"Where the fuck did you learn how to be a friend?" she asked, as she stepped into him rested her head on his shoulder.

"Believe it or not, Draco," he laughed.

"I won't ask," she chuckled.

"Don't. Now come on, let's go back inside," he said, as he wrapped an arm around her and guided her back to the Leaky.


	6. Sept 06

**Title: **Offering a Bit of Help

**Characters: **Pansy, Hermione

**Rating: **G

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Pansy returns something of Hermione's.

**Day:** Sept 06

* * *

"_If you have one true friend_

_You have more than your share."_

_-Thomas Fuller (1608-1661)_

* * *

"Granger," Pansy called, as she approached the bushy haired girl currently bent over a tome of a book frantically writing down notes. Exams were in two weeks and someone had stolen the girl's notebook so she was trying to reacquire the notes she had before. No one else's notes were quite as... thorough as hers had been though.

"Pansy, I'm busy right now. You know that," the girl said exasperatedly.

Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed. How she had ever become friends with the Gryffindor was a mystery to her. She leaned on the table and dropped the notebook onto Hermione's notes.

"Pansy," Hermione whispered harshly, not wanting to upset Madame Pince, "exams are in _fourteen days_ and I need to rewrite all my notes so I can- I can-" Hermione was glancing at the book now and Pansy heard the moment the other girl _finally_ realized what was before her whene there was this shrill sound of delight. "Pansy! _Where_ in Merlin's name did you _find_ this?"

Madame Pince cleared her throat and cast a scolding glance their way. Pansy nodded in acknowledgment.

"I may have put my Slytherin mind to work and found the culprit, and... coaxed them into handing it over," she said quietly.

The other girl hugged the book to her chest and gave her a watery smile. Pansy grimaced at the display of emotion. "I really don't quite care _how_ you got it right now," Hermione breathed before she practically leapt onto Pansy and _squeezed_ with a strength one would not have expected her to have.

She awkwardly patted Hermione's back and pulled away. "That was... unnecessary," she said, as she see-sawed somewhere between wanting to laugh at what was happening and wanting to hide. She would never understand Gryffindors, especially not this one, but she was lucky have her. She was lucky to have even found a friend after the war, a friend that often utilized their Gryffindor qualities to aid her without want for repayment.

"After exams are over however, I expect you to tell me what it is that you did. And to apologise to the poor soul you tormented to get this for me."

She laughed then, at the fullness of their friendship despite their past and the things that Pansy had done. She did not quite think she deserved the second chance. And from the looks of it, neither did Madam Pince. Pansy gestured to the woman and she and Hermione promptly left the library to find somewhere else to study.


	7. Sept 07

**Title: **Building Up

**Characters: **Harry, Draco

**Rating: **NC-17 for cursing.

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Harry and Draco have a series of run ins sort of.

**Day:** Sept 07

**A/N: **Not proof read. I don't even know if this makes sense. I'm fighting the clock here!

* * *

"_It is in the multitude of little everyday things,_

_letters to keep in touch, surprise gifts, and the willingness to listen,_

_that the ordinary person gets the opportunity to become a friend."_

_-Stuart and Linda MacFarlane_

* * *

Draco was once again at the office after hours finishing up paperwork. How he always ended up with a mountain of it was a wonder really, there were only so many this the Head Auror could find for him to do –unnecessary things that _no one else_ had to do. He sighed and sucked on the end of his coffee infused sugar quill –he had done some experimenting and eventually made a sugar quill one could write with- and glared at the Magical Damages form in front of him. His last job had entailed very little damage to anything of worth but still he had to fill the bloody thing out, never mind that this form was not mandatory for an Auror to fill out and that there was an entire section of the department dedication to the repairing and covering up of these things.

There was a knock at his door and, thinking the Head's lackey Ogden had come with more forms, he glared at the culprit. It was Potter. Draco sighed and fought the urge to run a hand across his forehead in frustration.

"What is it, Potter?" he snapped. He really did not need any disturbances. He simply wanted to get the paperwork over with and retire to the Manor.

"Er, sorry, you're sort of the only other person here right now," the man said, as he cast a quick glance at Draco's paper filled desk and grimaced.

"Yes, and?" he pressed, while gesturing at his paper work so the idiot would get on with it.

"I don't reckon you have a spare quill on you?" Potter asked. Draco opened his draw and got a sugar quill. "I have a few reports to file and mine-"

"Here," he said, as he brandished it. "Now out. I'm busy."

* * *

Groaning, Draco woke up and ran a hand through his hair. He and his partner Hudson had had a case that had concluded at some ungodly hour. They had gone back to the Ministry to fill out their forms and, per usual, Hudson had finished first and went home. He on the other hand had had to finish yet more paperwork and had fallen asleep at his desk after signing the last form, or at least that was what he reckoned had happened.

He double checked the forms groggily and then went to hand them in before Head Auror Matheson decided to have at him for it. They all really needed to move past the Dark Mark on his arm and remember that the war was done and snake face was dead. He dropped of the file and trudged back to lunch room to see if any of the fruits looked edible today and to pour himself some tea.

On the way there he was subject to a number of snickers and jibes, more so than usual. When he reached the lunch room he spotted Potter pouring himself some coffee and opted for getting something to eat rather than greet the man.

"Er, Malfoy," Potter said in an amused tone, "you've got some ink on your face."

Draco cursed and reluctantly turned to Potter. "Where?" he asked.

"Sort of... the entire left side of your face..." Potter said, as he gestured to his own face. "Do you need me to...?"

He sighed and nodded. It was too early for him to protest and he would rather not walk to the bathroom looking, however it was that he looked.

Potter took his wand out and Draco flinched at the movement, fighting his reflex to grab his own. The other man rolled his eyes before casting a _Tergeo_. Draco nodded in thanks and the two went their own ways.

* * *

A week later when Draco stepped through the floo and into the Atrium, criminal in hand, he saw Potter and Weasley standing in line to exit. The brunette noticed him and they nodded discreetly to one another before carrying on with their business. The mere fact that both of them had done that had surprised him but he quickly decided that should he have an amicable acquaintanceship with someone Potter would be the best person he forms it with. The man was the Saviour and all, despite the many late reports and occasional tardiness, being on Potter's good side would be beneficial.

As the weeks went on they would nod to one another, and on rare occasions mutter a greeting. Draco had long forgotten about the benefits of the acquaintanceship and was focused on time management. The more cases he and Hudson closed, the more paper work there was for him to do. He planned to file a complaint to human resources fairly soon. He always handed in his documents on time and rarely initiated any sort of disputes within the office. He had purposefully been well behaved so that he would attain enough credibility for his complaint to stand. First though, he would approach Matheson.

* * *

So Draco's approaching Matheson had been an utter failure. The man insisted that the documents were necessary and that Draco simply had a lackadaisical work ethic. Well, to say he was peeved would be an understatement. He held it in though and strode through the halls as if it were a regular day. He fetched the complaint form from his desk and headed down to HR.

In the evening he received more paperwork from Matheson that was due by noon the next day, and an unforgivable amount of cheek from the lackey. When he was not even half way through the paperwork he snapped and flung a _Reducto_ at Salazaar knew what as he shot out of his chair. The only thing he knew was that it had made a satisfying sound that included the blast and some shattering. Hopefully it was that ridiculous porcelain duck Hudson kept on his desk.

He was tired, he was hungry and he was overworked. Draco kicked at his desk and flung some of the parchment off of his desk. Part of his mind was sensible enough to have him throw duplicates of what he had already handed in but had not put into storage. Even in a tantrum he was being bloody responsible. _Lackadaisical my _arse!

When he was about to _Incendio_ a few of the sheets he heard a knock at his door and snapped around, raising his wand on reflex. It was Potter, of all people.

"_What_ do you want?" he spat furiously.

Potter raised his hands as he glanced around at the room. "I was just checking to see if everything was all right. I hear-"

"Checking to see if everything was _all right_?" he repeated disbelievingly. "In what definition of the phrase would _this_ mean _anything_ is all right, Potter?" he asked, as he threw the few pieces of parchment that were in his other hand at Potter. The sheets did not make it to the man before they scattered and fluttered to the ground.

"Maybe I should rephrase," Potter said. "What's the matter, then? That better?"

"And why in Merlin's name does that matter to you?" he asked, practically yelled, as he cocked his head to the side.

"Well, I'm trying to finish my reports over-" Potter started, as he gestured in the direction of his office.

"Then you should bloody well write them _on time_! Shouldn't you?" he snapped. The bastard ran around handing in late reports like it was normal and received nothing more than a stern look and a reprimand for fucks sake. If Draco handed in _one_ late form or document he would get _hell_ for it.

"Oi! I'm not the only one working my ass off in the middle of the night here! You should take your own damned advice and stop whining about it," Potter snapped. The man strode into Draco's office uninvited and started to berate _him_ for his "lackadaisical" work ethic.

"Take my own advice?" he whispered, as he stepped well into Potter's personal space. The man stepped back but Draco kept pressing forwards. "I _finish_ my reports on time, Potter. Rather unlike you do. In fact, I hand them all in on time as well. The only fucking reason I'm still here at this hour is because I have all these _fucking_ _unnecessary_ forms to fill out because I have a bloody Dark Mark on my arm," he spat, his voice rose as he spoke and he pulled his sleeve up to expose the ruddy tattoo.

"Malfoy get _out_ of my face," Potter said, as he shoved him back. "Matheson isn't that prejudiced."

"Isn't that prejudiced?" he repeated, laughing. The absurdity of the statement distracted him from the fact that Potter had shoved him. "Most this building is prejudiced, Potter. Most the _Wizarding World_ is prejudiced. They're prejudiced against me and all the other ex-Death Eaters regardless of which of us have already proven ourselves trustworthy. Or haven't you noticed it?"

"It's been _years,_ Malfoy," Potter said stupidly. "You're being ridiculously paranoid."

"Am I really?" he asked. "Do you have to write up damage reports for _all_ your cases? And how often do they call you in for psychological evaluations, Potter? Tell me. Is it every other bloody week?"

"What... Malfoy, psych evals happen twice a year," Potter breathed, as he watched Draco with furrowed brows.

"That's my point, Potter, because for _me_ they aren't," he said tiredly. "Now, if you will, get out of my office."

"Malfoy, how long has this been-"

"_Out_."

* * *

Some days later the lackey came to his office and relieved him of some of his more unnecessary paperwork. Draco eyed the man suspiciously until he left but made no complaints about having a more reasonable work load.

Later that day though, when he saw Potter, the man smiled and nodded at him and Draco knew he had something to do with it. He mulled over it for some time, deciding whether or not he wanted the pity. He eventually decided that Potter did it out of his irrational sense of righteousness and gave a small bow.

* * *

Draco was getting ready to leave the office, and fairly on time as well, when he heard a crash from Potter's office. He had heard that Weasley had gotten injured on their latest cases and was sure the brunette would be sulking or something of the sort. He had not expected a tantrum. He sighed and put his things down before heading over.

When he reached the office door some of the other Aurors were either trying to placate Potter or were simply watching in confusion or amusement. Draco sighed and made his way through them and to the distraught man. He grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away, making sure to avoid the ink that dripped from the man's robes. Some people attempted to stop him but he drew his wand at them until he got Potter to his office. He locked the door and turned to the other man.

"Sit," he ordered. Potter sneered at him and then strode towards the door. He the man by the arm and pulled him back before shoving him in the seat. "_Sit_ and _stay_ there."

Draco kept an eye on Potter as he snapped his fingers and called for one of the Manor's house elves. He rarely called them out of the house but he feared that Potter would run if he left the room. He told the elf to make some tea and bring it. He watched Potter as he waited and ignored the banging on his office door after he reinforced the wards.

"I heard about Weasel," he said.

Potter seethed.

"Weasley," he corrected. "Throwing a fit won't do him any good you know. You've got a report to fill out for _both_ of you. And if I were your partner I know I'd rather not have _you_ sulking. That would be my job."

"I should have paid better attention. This never would have happened if I had," muttered.

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned on his desk. "You're Aurors, Potter, it comes with the job."

"I could have been avoided," the man pressed.

The elf came back with the tea, along with some sugar and cream. Draco poured out tea and some cream for the man and stirred in a few spoons of sugar before handing it to him. He then made his own tea, keeping an eye on Potter as he did so, and then sent the elf away.

"The hell, Malfoy?"

"It's tea. Drink it. And I don't quite care what your tea preferences are, Potter. You need to calm down. You also need to get your work done. So _drink_."

"No, I don't-"

Draco took Potter's cup and drank a sip before setting it back down. Potter sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"I didn't mean it like that," Potter said tiredly.

"Well then drink, calm yourself down. You're of no use to Weasley if you're throwing a fit."

"... Right," Potter nodded. He took the cup and after staring into it as if it held the answers to life itself, he took a sip. The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "This is good." Draco took that as thanks.

When someone finally managed to remove the wards on his door he and Potter were sitting in a contented silence as the man borrowed a few supplies to write his report.


	8. Sept 08

**Title: **Reluctant Parting

**Characters: **Harry/Draco

**Rating: **uhm... PG13?

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary:** Draco has to leave. Harry wants to follow. Draco won't let him.

**Day:** Sept 08

**A/N:** What, why is it after 12 already! *rushes*. Uhm, sort of a continuation of _Rendezvous With a Wanted Lover._ *kills two birds with one stone*

This is probably all over the place. Good Godric, I'm sorry if this is a painful read. I had so many distractions.

Also this is part of the _365 Friendship Quotes_ things as well so (for ffnet) it's being posted in both sections.

* * *

"_I don't want to be near you for the thoughts we share_

_but the words we never have to speak."_

_- Nikki Giovanni_

* * *

Harry woke with a start and looked around the room frantically. Draco was nowhere to be found, which was fairly normal, all things considered, but not this time, not after last night. He grabbed his wand and summoned his pants before casting a cleaning charm on them and sliding them on as he walked. It took a great deal of effort not to trip over the vines as he did so. He noted that his body could still feel the blonde's warmth and so he hoped that he could still catch him.

He ran through the parts of the Manor that he knew Draco favoured, checking rooms swiftly, before he cursed and turned around to head for the wing that the man's parents had occupied. Draco would be thinking of his parents not his own nostalgia. He swore at how ridiculously_ big_ the Manor was as he moved. When he spotted a moving shadow he skidded to a halt before going into the room. It was a piano room, likely Narcissa's. Draco was running his fingers lightly over the worn piano keys as he stood in front of it, the seat was nowhere in sight. His head was bowed and his fringe, messier than Harry was used to seeing, shielded his eyes from Harry's sight.

"Draco," Harry panted, stepping into the room.

The man took a deep breath and kept his head down. "Could you just..." the blonde said distantly.

"Yeah," he said in understanding. Draco wanted to be alone with his memories and in his grief. "Just... don't leave, please."

Draco tensed and his hand froze in mid air. He never usually stayed this long and Harry knew that but did not quite care. The blonde needed support and he wanted to give it while he could. He did not want to have to wait six more months, or longer, to hear from him and to know that he was alive. Finally Draco gave a nod and Harry stepped out of the room and went down the corridor to wait. If the man was going to cry he did not think he wanted to hear it, not if he had to watch him leave again, and he did because Lucius was alive and in need of care.

* * *

When Draco came out of the piano room Harry shot up from his place on the floor. He saw the blonde's hand twitch towards his wand reflexively and felt his chest clench at the thought of Draco having to keep up the habits the war had carved into him. They watched each other as Draco made his way down the corridor. The flecks of light that shone in through the grime covered windows allowed Harry to see the man more properly than he had in the dim lighting they had the previous night.

Draco's eyes were sunken, the colour in his irises flat, and though he still had much the same weight as before Harry could tell that he had lost a few pounds. The blonde's hair had also lost most of its lustre and was frayed and flat. His cheeks held less warmth. And still, the man moved with unnatural quiet, the sort that Harry only knew Unspeakables to possess.

Harry slid a hand behind Draco's neck once they were toe-to-toe and tilted his head as he pulled the blonde's head down, so that their foreheads pressed together. He made an effort not to fist the man's hair. His hands wanted to clench from variety and the intensity of emotion he was experiencing and from all the things that he wanted to say and to ask. They did not have time for nearly half of it. Draco hesitated a while before Harry felt the man's weight pressing on him. Harry gazed at him and let the motions of the other man's eyes tell him more than enough. He hoped he managed to convey all the things that he wanted to with his own, things that were too heavy to say.

He cupped Draco's face with his other hand and looked at him pleadingly. Draco closed his eyes and shook his head before pulling Harry's hand to his lips. Harry felt Draco squeeze his hand gently as he slid his head to the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck and shoulders and felt strong arms wrap tightly around his waist.

"Please," Harry breathed, as he stroked the man's hair slowly, the way he knew he liked it.

Draco shook his head once more.

"I want to help you, be there for you, be with-"

Draco tensed in his arms. "Dont," Draco said firmly. "Don't leave everything you have, Harry. Everyone." _Not for me_, he could practically hear.

"I want to," he pressed.

"_I_ don't want you to," Draco said, as he pulled back. "You already do so much for me."

_I don't_, he thought.

"You _do_," Draco said, as he started slowly down the hall and examined the windows. "You come when I ask you to, and you don't _have_ to. You tolerate me. You give me an escape. You don't think twice about the consequences you would suffer should someone find us out." Draco stopped and gazed at Harry with more emotion than he had seen from him all morning. "It's wasted on me but you..." _love me_? _Care about me_? Harry could not decide which of the two Draco had thought, but he knew which one he felt.

"You deserve it," he said.

Draco closed his eyes and took a breath. "How's the investigation going?"

"Slow, but better than last you checked," he said, as he sighed at the change of topic. He had been trying to find ways to find solid evidence of the Malfoys' innocence.

"I thought-"

"I'm not going to give up on you, Draco," he snapped. "And if you won't let me go with you the investigation is the only way I'll feel as if I'm doing anything to help."

Draco watched him with sad eyes and inclined his head. "I'll contact you as soon as I can, Harry."

"Draco..." he breathed, as he walked towards the man. _Don't go. Not this time. This time feels different_.

Grey eyes locked onto his and he _knew_ the man had to leave, that he had only stayed so long because of Harry. That he had only come back _because_ of Harry. Draco had so much more to risk by contacting him, meeting him, staying as long as he did.

They reached for one another and pressed their bodies together as they kissed. The kiss was deep, it was needy, and it was overflowing with words they did not say, could not say and wanted to say. How much they would yearn for the other, how Narcissa had died and how much that hurt, how Draco worried for Lucius, how Harry worried for Draco, how he wanted him to be free, how he wanted him to be happy, how they both loved each other and how they were too afraid to say it out loud.

"I..." Draco breathed when they pulled apart, panting.

"Me too," Harry whispered.

Draco kissed him once more, softly, before pulling away and disapparating with an astonishing silence. Harry licked his lips and tasted Draco on his tongue.


	9. Sept 14

**Title: **Angie and the Twins

**Characters: **Angelina, Fred, George

**Rating: **G

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Angelina finds something in her bag.

**Day:** Sept 14

* * *

"_A friend accepts you for who you are, b__ut expects you to be all you can be."_

_-Richard Louv, from "The Web of Life"_

* * *

Angelina sighed as puffs of lilac smoke billowed out of her bag when she opened it. It smelled of lavender, her favourite scent. When she looked inside there was a stem of it lying atop her books. She smiled and shook her head as she sat in class, ignoring the way the other students stared.

"I'm _fine_," she said so those that were worried could resume whatever it was they had been doing.

* * *

At dinner she went and sat with the Weasley twins. She gave George pointed, but amused, look before pulling the flowers out her bag with a flourish.

"I'm not even surprised that you found some way to slip this into my bag," she said.

"You liked it though," George smiled.

"You bet she did," Fred added.

"Look at the smile!" George cheered.

"She's trying to hide it," said Fred.

"It's no use you know."

"I don't know how I tolerate the two of you," she joked. She prodded George's arm, "You especially."

"My good looks," Fred said offhandedly.

"My charm," George continued.

"Our sense of humour," they both said.

She laughed and shook her head. "Right. But maybe you two should put all the effort into something other than pranking everyone. Merlin knows Ronald needs a break."

"And what exactly would that be?" George asked right as food flooded the tables.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "You two could always work for Zonko's or something. Put your mischievousness to use."

"Or better yet-"

"- we could start our own business!"

"Give Zonko's a run for their money."

"And make our own."

"Brilliant, Angie Pangie," George said.

"Quit _calling_ me that," she groaned, before dishing out some of the roasted chicken.


	10. Sept 20

**Title: **Potions Ingredients and a Flower

**Characters: **Harry/Draco

**Rating: **G

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Harry goes potion collecting with Draco but gets distracted.

**Day:** Sept 20

* * *

"_We take our friends with us wherever we go_

_-And say to ourselves: _"They would love this"_"_

_-Pam Brown, B. 1928_

* * *

"You've stopped five times now since we've gotten here. You have your trowel, you've got your shears, no, none of the ingredients are sentient and I would think that you don't need to piss quite so soon," Draco said exasperatedly. "So what in Salazaar's tarnished name are you stopping for this time?"

"I feel like I've seen that plant somewhere before..." Harry mumbled, as he stared. He had agreed to help Draco collect potions ingredients after he had thrown a drunken fit in the blonde's lab a week prior; he had been upset that the man was taking so bloody long to tell him whether or not he would accept Harry's invitation to move in with him.

"Seen what plant be- Merlin's shaggy beard, that's... It's exquisite," Draco whispered in awe.

"Right, but what _is_ it?" Harry asked.

"What... _What is it?_" Draco repeated, looking at Harry as if it was some sort of blasphemy not to know. "I thought you recognized it?"

"I said I've seen it somewhere before," he sighed, "not that I recognise it."

Draco shook his head in disappointment before launching into a brief lecture. "It's a species of Impatiens Psittacina, or in layman's term the Parrot Balsam. And I'm sure I don't need to explain why they call it that since you can see for yourself."

He could see why it was called that. It looked very much like a parrot. That was when Harry remembered _why_ it looked familiar. Neville had been talking about it endlessly one day and had shown Harry various pictures. Those pictures showed a red, pink and white flower that arched and spread into the form of the bird though. Not the blue, blue-green and white plant he was looking at.

Draco stepped closer to the plant and looked at it with awe filled eyes. Harry followed and upon closer inspection saw a tinge of ochre on the blossom. "Why is it this colour? Isn't it supposed to be red?"

"The non-magical species, yes," Draco said distractedly. "This however isn't the one you're thinking of, which is why we managed to stumble across it in Europe of all places. They aren't used in potion making though, too rare. There are other colours too, but these happen to be the hardest ones to grow. The Muggles spotted it once and have been having difficulty breeding it what with their lack of magic, and even then the plant is... resistant."

"Neville would love to see this..." he said. Harry spent some time staring at the plant as best he could and taking in all the things he thought Neville might be interested in seeing. "Could you spare me phial? I want to give him the memory, in case I can't find it again."

"I'll give Longbottom my observation. You're just looking at it at random," Draco offered. "You haven't given the slightest bit of attention to things like the ecosystem around it."

Harry grinned, "Thanks."

"Yes, but, one condition," the blonde said.

"Can't you ever just do something nice for my friends for the sake of being nice?" he asked.

"No," Draco smirked. "Instead of my moving in with you, how about you move in with me?"

He stared at the blonde in shock before he responded. "Why don't you want to move in with me?"

"Because Grimmauld is dreadful and I need more lab space than any of those rooms will provide. I've been researching it and those rooms will take far too much effort and time to install Wizard space."

"Wh- Yes," Harry stammered happily. He slid his arms around the blonde. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

"Good," Draco smiled. He kissed Harry sweetly before opening a phial and putting the memory inside. "Now, back to collecting ingredients, Harry. And you're doing most of it."


	11. Nov 16

**Title:** School Stories

**Characters:**Harry/Draco, Ron, Hermione

**Rating:** G

**Summary:** Draco hangs out with Harry and his friends.

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Word Count:** ~550

**Day:** Nov 16

* * *

"_We may exasperate each other sometimes_

_But we are friends always."_

_-Pam Brown_

"Harry," Granger, well Granger-Weasley, groaned.

"What?" Harry laughed, as she shoved him lightly. "It's true!"

Draco wondered at the naturalness of their interaction, and not just those two, but the Weasley as well. He was not used to seeing friendships quite so... affectionate. Slytherins were not like that. They laughed and they smiled but they were contained in the way they executed all forms of expression, calculated. It was hard for him to do anything more than give a polite smile or soft chuckle.

"It was _years_ ago," Granger complained. "Ron!"

"W-what?" Weasley laughed. "It's Harry's mouth I reckon I can't control what comes out of it."

"'Mione, you're the one that started telling Hogwarts stories all right. It's not _my_ fault that some of them are hilariously embarrassing," Harry grinned.

"Hmph, it's not fair. You two are purposefully singling me out," Granger huffed. "And it's not like I'm getting to hear any stories about Malfoy as compensation."

"I do think you know most of our shared Hogwarts stories though," Draco said. "There's not much to tell."

"Oh, Harry!" Weasley said with a clap of his hands. "Do you remember this one, _You could get us killed or even worse, expelled_?"

"How can I forget?" Harry laughed freely. "Hermione was always putting studying ahead of our rather important meddling."

"Can we talk about something else?" she said, annoyed. "Like how you kept ogling Malfoy's arse in sixth year?"

"I wasn't _ogling_ him," Harry defended, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Oh?" Draco smiled.

"Not _then_ anyway," Harry said. "Not... completely..."

"You can't half-ogle someone's arse, Harry," he said smirking.

"He was definitely ogling," Weasley nodded. "I thought back on it when you two started dating and, granted I wasn't exactly pleased about it at the time, but I realized he really was _obsessed_ with you. I mean practically every day Harry woul-"

"Merlin, Ron, stop," Harry groaned as he dragged a hand over his face. Draco chuckled.

"Well, you were talking about him _all_ the time, Harry. All the time. Not just when you thought he was up to something." Granger grinned, as she looked at Harry without mercy.

"_Doesn't Malfoy look thinner to you_?" Weasley said.

"_His hair doesn't look as shiny as it used to_," Granger mimicked. "And then when you two started talking after the war it was like he had never stopped obsessing."

"It's a miracle we didn't see this coming," Weasley said, gesturing to them. "I'd heard your name so many times that it should have been obvious."

"I hate you two," Harry mumbled.

"I rather like them," Draco said.

"You know, if Harry can't handle this we could just go to drinks _without_ him," Weasley said. "And then topics are a free for all."

"We could," Draco mused, playing along.

"No," Harry said.

"I thought you wanted me to get along with them," he teased. Granger and Weasley nodded in agreement.

"Not when you're getting along like _this_," Harry complained, as he shot glares at all of them.

"Oh come now, I had to sit through Blaise and Pansy. Weasley and Granger are a lot more considerate than those two," he said. "They haven't told me anything overly embarrassing."

"You mean like when Harry got hit on by Moaning Myrtle?" Granger asked.

"Moaning Myrtle?" Draco asked. Granger nodded. "Do tell."

"_Well_..."


	12. Nov 28

**Title: **Not the Other Weasley

**Characters: **Ron

**Rating: **G

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

**Summary: **Ron reflects on how he felt having quite so many siblings.

**Day:** Nov 28

* * *

"_If you want accounting of your worth,_

_Count your friends."_

_-Mary Browne_

* * *

There was a time when Ronal Weasley had felt like nothing but the sibling that had to live up to everyone else. Bill had been Head Boy, had outstanding grades (literally) and landed a job working for Gringott's. Charlie was the charismatic prefect, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team who was a bloody brilliant seeker and even better dragonologist. Percy, despite his faux pas later on, had been an excellent student, prefect, Head Boy, never got into trouble and had landed himself a Ministry job. Fred and George might have given his parents hell but they were bloody creative and smart too, to come up with all those pranks and products, excellent beaters on the quidditch team and their grades weren't bad either. Ginny was the only girl in the lot and that automatically made her important since she was the only one for a few generations at least.

And then somewhere in there had been Ron.

Ron who had been sure that his brothers had basically done everything under the sun, who would never get the same sort of grades as Bill or Percy, who doubted he could coach a quidditch team or become Head Boy. He had been 'the other Weasley'.

But now, now Ron looked around himself and all the people that considered him their friend, looked at the smiling faces of his family, looked at Hermione grinning beside him. Clearly there was something about him that was just as outstanding, or excellent, or brilliant as his siblings if all these people cared for him and had put out the effort of planning this ridiculously elaborate surprise birthday party. He was not sure what _exactly_ it was that they saw in him but he sure as hell knew that some of them would not be arsed to help with something like this if they did not care (people like Zabini for instance).

Ron was one of many Weasley's but he was not 'the other Weasley' as he had once thought. He was Ronald Bilius Weasley, and everyone before him appreciated that.


End file.
